It's not often that somebody claims a painting changed their
outlook on life and the way they feel about themselves.

But, in the case of the sitters for Port Phillip artist
Elizabeth Stoney's 133 portraits now on display at Federation
Square, there are more than a few who have been deeply moved by the
experience. And for the next week, anyone who can handle the
intensity is invited to sit for the artist.

"I thought it would be a fairly passive experience," says ABC
Classic FM presenter and cellist Emma Ayres, "but it was actually
pretty full-on. It almost felt like I was giving her my soul."

Before Stoney begins painting, she asks her subjects for
forgiveness, then demands they look into her eyes for the duration
of the painting, even when she's not looking directly at them. The
result is a level of intimacy between artist and sitter that Stoney
says is usually the preserve of lovers or children with their
parents.

"In a sense, it's the subject who paints the picture," she says,
"I try to take myself out of it and rely on the energy of the
person. At the end, it's like I'm looking at the painting for the
first time."

As she paints, she appears to fall into a trance-like state,
becoming a conduit, interpreting with the seemingly carefree
strokes of her paintbrush the mysterious forces emanating from her
subjects.

"She completely changed while she was painting," says Ayres.
"She was like a musician performing. I think for both of us it was
a kind of meditative experience."

The Mayor of Port Phillip, Darren Ray, found himself equally
spellbound after he sat for the artist earlier this year.

"Without sounding too over-the-top, I'd have to say it was a bit
of a life-changing experience for me," he says. "She was able to
connect at an almost subliminal level. She has this ability to peel
back layers just by looking at you."

The proof, as they say, is in the pudding. Each of the 133
portraits is unique. And with the array of styles on display, you
could be forgiven for attributing them to more than one artist.

Stoney regards each portrait as an attempt to convey as honestly
as possible something of the person she's painting. She hates it
when people ask her to make them look pretty or handsome.

"I think people like to be appreciated for themselves. And for
ordinary people, that doesn't happen very often."

Stoney says her ability to adapt her style is a result of her
training in Chinese calligraphy. "You paint from here," she says,
pulling her fist into her chest to indicate that here is her "soul,
heart, everything".

Susan Hickey's portrait.Photo:Supplied

During the exhibition, she intends to paint up to 10 portraits a
day, each taking about an hour.

Ray says the process of sitting for a portrait is a deeply
personal challenge he recommends for everyone.

"In all my years of public service, it would rate as the most
confronting experience, far harder than standing up to a crowd of
screaming people," he says. "She saw in 30 seconds the internal
conflicts happening inside me. It was almost like a palm
reading."

There's certainly an aura of the clairvoyant about Stoney that
makes the serendipitous tale of how the exhibition came about seem
all the more spooky. At her old gallery, Studio 51, at South
Melbourne market, Stoney was inviting passers-by to sit for a
portrait. One happened to be Gerard Vaughan, director of the
National Gallery of Victoria.

"When he told me who he was, I completely froze, brush in hand,"
she recalls. But she had made the right impression.